


Gardenias.

by Dame_Dulces



Series: Hanahaki AU [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Hanahaki Disease, Hanahaki but a little different, M/M, Pining, Requited Unrequited Love, Saihara Shuichi-centric, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 10:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17242517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_Dulces/pseuds/Dame_Dulces
Summary: “Of course I love you,” he said as he twisted the ends of his eggplant-colored hair between the tips of his twig-like fingers.“But that’s a lie… isn’t it?”





	Gardenias.

Shuichi’s troubles started with an array of white flowers.

Gardenias, he deduced. But that fact wouldn’t come to him until much later.

They’d appeared in his dreams just moments before awakening, surrounding him in a field of ivory that stretched as far as the eye could see, past the endless horizon and onwards into the great blue yonder. The fragrant floral smell had danced in the wind, caressing his navy locks as they twirled wildly about his head. Their aroma was gentle and soft, like a rain shower in the early days of spring when winter began to melt and their place on earth shifted back towards the sun.

However, something deeply worried him once his eyes had opened reluctantly to greet the light of the new day. A foggy memory of the dream that lay in between remembrance and forgetfulness stirred within his mind.

Someone else had been in that field of flowers, far in the distance and impossibly out of reach.

Someone with plum-colored hair and a devious smile.

Someone he knew all too well.

_But… why was he there?_

He lay in bed, doing his best to analyze the strange symbols that appeared from his subconscious, when he felt something clenched tightly in his hands. He opened his fist.

A single white flower with crushed petals stared back at him.

 

~~

 

It followed him everywhere.

No matter where he went, that flower made its presence known often enough that he couldn’t simply write it off as mere coincidence.

He pulled one out of his pocket when he was getting cash for his coffee. Another fell out of his wallet while he was searching for his metro pass. And one more bared its pale face while he was digging in his backpack for his pencil case.

Perfect, in tact flowers. Perfectly white, perfectly unblemished.

He tried to ignore them, to still his beating heart whenever he came across a new one in his belongings, but lying was an art form he had never mastered and now was not the time to learn.

Never before had the color of ivory put him in such a state of discomfort and curiosity at the same time, so he did what any good detective would do.

He investigated.

He took a seat on a bench in the park across from school. It was still early; he had time to get some research in before the first bells rang. He pulled the book out from his bag and held it in his lap.

He observed the wildflowers that grew around him, leaving splashes of pink and purple and blue in every crevice of the garden.

He thought of his dream and the boy with plum-colored hair that had watched him from across the meadow.

He looked once more at the wilting white petals in his hand before his mind was torn off track.

“Saihara-chaaaaaaaan.”

He looked up to see a mess of octopus-like hair obscuring his vision.

“… Oh, Kokichi! What are you doing here?”

Kokichi gave him the same blank smile he always did. Cocking his head to one side like a little kid. A pale rosy color spread across his round cheeks.

“I’ve decided to skip school today. I’m bored of class! I’m going to run away and join the circus instead.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Just kidding! I saw Shumai sitting here all alone and thought he’d want some company!”

Kokichi plopped down on the wooden bench next to him, a little closer than expected, his shoulder just barely brushing against Shuichi’s arm. Shuichi felt warmth spread throughout, creeping from arm to shoulder to neck until he was certain his face was a noticeable shade of red.

_Why does he always get so close to me…?_

“Uhm, thanks, I guess…”

Both of their eyes fell on the dust-covered book titled “Flower Identification”, and the white flower that lay in between the pages.

“Hm? What’s that?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I found it this morning.”

“Awwww, Shushu! Were you planning to give this to me as a display of your undying love and affection?”

Shuichi’s eyes increased in size, and Kokichi chuckled. Probably at how flustered Shuichi was. He didn’t blame him; he knew how pathetic he was. One big walking joke.

“W-wait, it’s not like that!!”

“It’s okay, Saihara-chan! Because I’m totally in love with you, too!”

Kokichi grabbed his hand and rubbed his thumb across his fingers. It was softer than Shuichi had ever imagined. He felt his clammy hands grow even colder at the unexpected contact.

He gulped.

His heart jolted at the sudden confession, as it always did when Kokichi toyed with his emotions, and he tried everything in his power not to faint on the spot. He paused, searching Kokichi’s face for signs of deceit. Searching for reasons to doubt.

“Are you… really?”

Kokichi didn’t answer for a moment. His hand retreated as he diverted his attention to the frizzy hair that fell over his forehead and eyes. His lips pushed against each other and reminded him of the pink carnations that bloomed in the early spring.

He wondered what they tasted like.

Shuichi’s throat began to itch suddenly, and he let out a gravelly cough.

“Of course I love you,” Kokichi said as he twisted the ends of his eggplant-colored hair between the tips of his twig-like fingers.

“But that’s a lie… isn’t it?”

He looked up, finally meeting Shuichi’s gaze. His eyes the color of lilacs. What truths lay hidden behind those windows? It felt like Shuichi had spent a lifetime trying to solve that mystery.

But at this rate, it would forever remain a cold case.

“Who knows…” said the prankster in a nonchalant manner. No twinge in his voice. No clues to lead him to the truth.

Perhaps Shuichi’s hopes were too high, and all his evidence was circumstantial.

He coughed again. Once. Then twice.

“Um, I think I’m going to class now…”

He could barely spit out those words as he launched into a coughing fit, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform. He shoved the book and the flower back into his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and made his leave before Kokichi could think of a reply.

He failed to notice the blood-stained petals he had left behind on the ground.

 

~

 

To his dismay, his troubles had only just begun.

He had been in school for no less than fifteen minutes when he realized something was very, very wrong.

His mind had wandered back to the moment when Kokichi had taken his hand. Oh, how he wished he could go back! That tiny bit of touch had revived a part of him he thought had died long ago.

He looked at his hand, the one Kokichi had held so tenderly, and saw that three flowers had appeared.

Their roots were embedded in his skin.

He immediately went to yank them out, but the searing pain prevented him from tearing them away. He excused himself and rushed towards the bathroom in a panicked haze.

Cut them, he had to cut them off. He twisted the stems until they popped off on their own, and soon nothing was left but little green stubs poking out of his skin.

He sighed in relief, but when he looked again he saw they had blossomed once more. The whiteness of the petal reflecting the fluorescent lights of the ceiling.

He burst out of the bathroom and made his way home.

 

~

 

Gardenias. Often chosen for wedding bouquets, they were native to some parts of Africa and Asia as well as Oceania. They require high humidity and brightness to grow. They usually bloomed in the early summer, but sometimes came as late as early fall.

That’s what Shuichi had learned.

Cold, hard facts. Those made sense to him. That’s why he enjoyed investigative work. It was linking those strange white flowers to Kokichi that sent him through a maze which he had no hope of exiting from.

Kokichi… why did he always find himself drifting back to him?

Perhaps it was the way he lied that drew him in. Always keeping on his toes, making him wonder which parts of him were lies and which were the honest-to-god truths. He was a puppet being strung by the hands of a trickster, and the worst part was… he didn’t mind.

In fact, he yearned for it.

Shuichi was laying on his bed, analyzing their last conversation word by word as he counted the little dots that peppered across the ceiling, when he heard the doorbell ring.

He sat up, accidentally pulling some of the stems on his palms.

Who could that be?

He made his way to the door and found Kokichi staring at him expectantly on the other side.

“… Kokichi?”

“Shumai! I didn’t know you were such a delinquent! Skipping school out of the blue like that… you’re naughty!”

He pushed past Shuichi and invited himself inside, sprawling across one of the black leather couches in the living room. Shuichi took a seat in the armchair.

“I… I wasn’t feeling well, so I went home early.”

“You rushed out in such a hurry. You didn’t even notice how you almost trampled over your beloved Kokichi on the way out!”

Tears welled in Kokichi’s eyes, and Shuichi wasn’t sure whether he should comfort him or ignore him and hope it passed. He compromised.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

He reached behind his head to scratch an itchy spot on his neck, forgetting about his hand’s condition. By the time he realized he had exposed himself, it was too late.

“Hey… what’s that on your hand?”

Shuichi quickly yanked it down, hiding it in his chest. He averted his gaze and stared at a nondescript spot on the carpet. Face flushed.

“It’s nothing.”

“Let me seeeeee.”

Kokichi popped up from the couch and seized his hand before Shuichi could protest. He examined the peculiar blossoms with diligence. One finger circling his palm, examining both the flowers and the lines that made up the map that was his hand. One or two more bloomed as he looked, against Shuichi’s will.

“Hey, w-wait!”

“This is kinda freaky… what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing! Really, probably just a fungus…”

“Do you have them anywhere else on your body?”

Shuichi gulped.

“… My body?”

“Yeah, like… on your arms?”

Kokichi pushed up his sleeves, stroking the underside of his arm with the silk of his hand. Goosebumps rose across Shuichi’s skin, and new stems burst forth.

“Ko, kokichi!!”

“Or your stomach?”

The petite boy lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing another trail of blooming white flowers below his belly button.

“Hey, hold on-!”

Kokichi was straddling him now. His thighs on either side on his hips. Uncomfortably close; the armchair was not meant for two people. His lips close enough that Shuichi could feel his soft afternoon breath. Shuichi did nothing, could do nothing, except stare into those lilac colored irises and pray those lips would come just a little closer…

“Shumai… are they anywhere else?”

In an explosion of passion and shame, a bouquet of gardenias leapt from the waist of his pants and filled the room with the delicate floral aroma Shuichi had become all too familiar with. Disgraced and humiliated, he pushed Kokichi off.

“… Get out.”

“…Ouch! That hurt! What’s the big-“

“Get out! **_Get out_**!!”

Shuichi’s cries grew hoarser as he broke out into another fit of dry coughs. Kokichi stumbled to his feet, taken aback by the sudden outburst, and ran to the door without another a word.

Before he left, he turned back to see a pile of cherry red flowers in between Shuichi’s legs.

 

~

 

Shuichi was covered with them by the end of the week.

He was only a little surprised at how quickly they had spread. Like an airborne virus, or a fungus spread by touch, his mysterious ailment rapidly transformed him into something unrecognizable.

It was strange. He’d never heard of such an illness before. He searched the symptoms on the web and in the books that lined his parents’ musty bookshelf, but nothing came close to a proper diagnosis.

He figured it wouldn’t matter soon, anyway.

It was hard to imagine the future with sharp vines curled around his limbs and leaves the size of skulls protruding from every crevice of his skin. The green almost overtook the white, giving Shuichi the appearance of a garden.

The gardenias grew through his hair, intertwined between each lock and strand as their roots dug into his scalp. As the days dragged on, it was harder to breathe regularly as he felt the ominous plants rising in his chest.

His coughs had only gotten worse, leaving remnants of white and red and green everywhere he went. The pain was like fire, sparking embers in his throat that worsened whenever he thought of his last moments with Kokichi.

He didn’t have much time left.

He regretted pushing Kokichi away. Maybe if he had tried to understand him better, to play along with his games, perhaps things would have been different.

Yeah, that’s right. This was his own fault.

He sat on the swing outside in the backyard, rocking back and forth and soaking up the rays of the sun he was sure would be his last, when he heard a ruffling sound within the wall-high bushes.

“Hey! It’s meeee! I know you’ve got an ugly weird fungus thing but I promise that I’m not scared of you whatsoever! Even if you are a leper!”

He turned to see Kokichi forcing his way into the garden. Before he could utter a word of warning, the boy had appeared before him. He brushed off the residual leaves before facing Shuichi, or whatever was left of him, and for the first time since he’d known him… Kokichi looked genuinely scared.

He didn’t blame him.

“Saihara-chan!”

Kokichi looked upon him in fear. Not surprising, but it was out of character to see even the slightest indication of emotion on his face.

“You look… horrible!”

Shuichi scoffed. No shit.

“Yeah… I know.”

Kokichi’s face went blank.

“…You’re dying, aren’t you?”

Shuichi nodded.

“No… no! You can’t die yet!”

“Kokichi… I-”

“ _Shut up_!” Kokichi yelled, causing the nearby birds to flutter out of the branches and into the sky. His voice broke halfway through. Shuichi detected a tremor.

“I said you can’t die! Not until I’ve stolen your heart!”

Shuichi blinked, at first in shock.

Then he laughed. A deep, raspy, guttural laugh that rattled his bones and shook the blood that was caught in his throat.

What a horrible joke. This was the worst one of all. Kokichi sure had a sick sense of humor.

“Didn’t you notice? You already have…”

Another cough. Another splatter of sangria on the pavement. Kokichi was frozen in place, frozen in time. Shuichi continued, knowing this was his last chance to leave this world unburdened.

“Too bad… to think I gave my heart away to someone who didn’t really want it.”

He felt himself fading away. The vision of a white meadow clear in his head.

This was it.

This was the end.

The swing creaked and groaned as it went forward and backwards.

He closed his eyes and awaited death.

“Shuichi… it wasn’t a lie!!”

“… What?”

He opened his eyes. Kokichi was crying. Tears, real tears flowed down his cheeks and dripped onto the ground, mixing with the red blood to form deep pink.

He went to speak, but couldn’t. The vines were crawling up his throat. It was only a matter of time.

“It wasn’t a lie… all of it, all of it was the truth! I swear on my life!”

Shuichi felt himself soften, and a slow smile crept up into the corners of his mouth.

_Ah… I was wrong the whole time. Some detective I am._

His consciousness was dwindling.

He closed his eyes, feeling at peace as he swayed in the wind.

“Shuichi… no…”

The swing screeched and quaked with the added weight. He felt Kokichi’s breath upon him. How sweet it was. Sweeter than he had imagined.

Then he felt his lips. He felt Kokichi’s lips. He felt Kokichi’s lips on his. They were warm like honey and refreshing as the rain showers in the first days of spring. Slightly chapped, a little wet, but real.

“Kokichi…”

His voice returned. The vines receded, clearing his airways and letting him inhale deeply for the first time in however long. The leaves drooped down, turning shades of red and orange and yellow before crumbling into brown pieces on the stone ground beneath them.

And finally, _finally_ , the gardenias wilted.

Shuichi opened his eyes and smiled up at the boy he loved, the sunlight illuminating his face and leaving sparkles in the trail of tears that lined his cheeks. Kokichi grinned back, a little crookedly as if he was unfamiliar with the sensation of an authentic smile.

Shuichi laughed inwardly. Something to practice, he thought.

He put a hand around his neck, a hand free of flowers and doubt, and kissed him once more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, I'd like to thank you for reading and giving this a chance.
> 
> Writing has been difficult lately, and to be honest this was quite a challenge to complete. It took me a very long time to get here despite being so short.
> 
> I've been wanting to make a spiritual sequel of sorts for Violets, this time from Shuichi's experience. I used the theme of hanahaki once more because I believe it has equal amounts of opportunity for both angst and hopefulness, as well as new perspectives and twists. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed it.


End file.
